Not For Nothing
by imagine.life.sweeter
Summary: Junior year is when the strong rise above the weak. When you either figure out how to make your dreams work or they end up falling like stars in the middle of the night during a metor shower. Rated T for anticipated language, multiple and varied parings.


**I'm back! ****Did you miss me? Don't answer that.**

**Well, clearly I decided to stick it out with boarding school, as I haven't updated anything since August! It's an awful long time to be away from y'all, but year 11 is where everything gets serious and important, and technique classes take up the majority of my time. And I thought "hey, that could make a cool _Victorious _story!" so I decided to finally pen it in my nonexistent free time.**

**So ladies and gents, I present to you _Not for Nothing_!**

Junior year is where everything gets serious at Hollywood Arts.

Sure, all of the freshmen and sophomores spend their time in theatre history and improv, learning their lines for the latest play and writing songs on the weekends. But junior year is when everything is real. Junior year is when math and science don't count anymore. Junior year is when they give you a free hour at the end of each school day to perfect your craft in the creativity block. Junior year is when it's acceptable to skip two weeks of school to go shoot a short film in Chicago or not come to school on Monday because you managed to get a gig opening for for a smaller star at the latest club on Sunday night.

Junior year is when the strong rise above the weak. When you either figure out how to make your dreams work or they end up falling like stars in the middle of the night during a metor shower.

So as I'm walking into the hallways on my first day of junior year, I'm terrified. I put on my smile and stride to my locker, my new brown boots clicking against the linolium the way all shoes do in school. Before putting in my combination, I press the little button in the corner of the door and it lights up again, signaling the start of another year.

"Yo. Vega." A familiar voice shoots through the air, almost sending chills down my spine. I haven't been to one class yet, and she's already shaking me. Jade gets to people that way.

"Hi Jade. How was Toronto?" I ask sweetly, twisting the lock to gain access to my books.

She purses her lips. "It was Canada. You finish the picture," she mutters. A smile then spreads across her lips. "But it was good. I had fun." I grab my Screen&Play textbook and try not to laugh or frown. It's weird to hear Jade say she had fun, and I'm still a little jealous that she was asked to sing backup vocals on Kylie's new album. Kylie is my favorite pop star, not hers. But I swear, I'm so not bitter. I'm not like that.

A high pitched squeal pierces through the air as a pair of glittery turquoise stilettos hit the floor at full speed. Cat tosses herself at me, enveloping me in a hug. "Hi Tori!" she says excitedly, shaking me with surprising force. "How was your summer?"

I shake my head. "Cat, I was with you last week. We had lunch together to catch up. You know all about my summer," I remind her. She lets go of me and stares, her eyes wide like a baby bird's. She thinks I don't care about her question in that usual, babylike manner that Cat possesses. "I had a fantastic summer," I say, giving in. I can't stand to see her sad like that.

The three of us make our way through the throngs of eager freshmen who have no clue where they're going but are so full of excitement to be at Hollywood Arts, ready to make their dreams of being the next Beyonce or George Clooney come true. Their optimism will fade. Everyone's does soon enough. They don't yet understand how hard it is to make it here, in this town, around the globe.

They haven't felt the pressure yet. They haven't had their hopes crushed as they watched their friend get the role they wanted in a musical. They haven't been told that they aren't pretty enough, blonde enough, or tall enough for a role.

The Asphalt Cafe is alive with the upperclassmen, showing off their Turks and Caicos tans and the clothes they bought while travelling this summer. They're all singing warm-ups, tuning their guitars, and prepping for the first day of starting their careers - for real. We make our way to our usual table, where they guys are waiting and watching some video on the Slap.

"Hey chicas," says Andre, standing up to give us all hugs. Jade refuses to hug him, but settles on a fist bump in her usual pouty but likable manner. A tough girl has to maintain that image, after all. She doesn't like to let it be known that she has a soft spot for the piano playing boy, or the geeky ventriloquist, or the godlike actor who she may or may not love. She only lets us five see it, and just barely a glimmer.

The next ten minutes are a whirlwind of catching up and coffee drinking, our usual routine. We all talk over each other, the way that we do when we're doing a drive-by acting exrecise in Sikowitz's class. It's just time that we need before reality sets in. The bell that has become so familiar rings, signaling the begining of the school year.

Not for nothing, but it could be the end of my dreams if everything doesn't work out. And that is what I'm most worried about this year

**What do you think so far? I know it's just really an introduction chapter... but review & let me know :)**

**xo, Chantal**


End file.
